Pay Attention: Simplifying the Writing
Life can often be difficult, but writing doesn’t have to be. Take for instance the recent news that my wife Cathy has breast cancer. We’re in the early stages now of a challenge we didn’t choose, but one we’re determined to overcome. It’s the most difficult thing either of us has had to face. It’s overwhelming to try to express the complicated emotions this challenge elicits: fear, sadness, anger. It’s simple, though, to describe a moment from the third floor of the Stephanie Spielman Breast Center when Cathy and I found ourselves alone in the waiting room. We were waiting for a nurse to call Cathy back for her biopsies. The sun was streaming through a window beside us, and the warmth was glorious on a cool morning.
Cathy has always loved the sun. I put my arm around her, and she laid her head on my shoulder. She said to me with a soft voice, “There’s no one else I’d rather be going through this with.” I told her there was nowhere else I’d want to be. And for a few moments we were alone in the sunshine. It fell on our weathered bodies. It slanted across Cathy’s hand on my leg. It warmed my face. We closed our eyes, and I felt her breathing matching my own. There were no doctors, there were no other patients, there was no television playing in the background. It was just the two of us together in the sunshine.
Pay attention, I told myself, as I’ve reminded countless writing students. Pay attention to the world around you. Pay attention to the details. You can’t write the moments that surprise you and your readers with their truth if you’re not awake enough to find them. Open yourself to what you wouldn’t expect—this moment of grace amid so much uncertainty, this moment of true intimacy, this blessing, this love.
How beautiful. I am so sorry your wife has cancer. I, too, have breast cancer, but it is under control at this time. I pray that Cathy’s diagnosis is treatable and she will do well. I know that feeling you write about. My husband had cancer and waiting for the diagnosis was so scary.
Thank you for your good thoughts. My wife and I wish the very best for you.
Lee, this is the prescription for what you and Cathy are going through. You now have the opportunity to capture the exquisite details in a way with fresh eyes. Keep the pen close and Cathy closer. Hugs to both of you.
Thank you, Tina!
Thanks for writing this, amigo. Today’s our monthly cancer support. Group: good bunch. And it is definitely spring. Nice visits from Baltimore orioles & grossbeaks, both of which dig their birdiness! Onward we all go!
Small blessing all around. And, as you say, onward we go!
God gives us little bright nuggets of joy in our troubles. Nehemiah 8:10 …. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength. Jesus never provided a life of no troubles in fact he said we were to expect them. He said in Him we could overcome them. I am praying fiercely for you and Cathi. For your joy, for you to have peace, for God to give your physicians supernatural knowledge of how to bring healing to your lives. And I am old. And I know my God is a faithful God. Lean into him. 🫶
Thank you, Rhonda.
Gorgeous Lee. Thank you for the reminder to pay attention. Those instances of grace are there if we pause to look. You and Cathy will get through this. I’m so glad you have each other. You also have more friends out there cheering you on than you may realize.
Thank you, Margaret. Each kind word and encouragement from beautiful friends like you mean the world to us.